Can I call you Jack?
by Harpie138
Summary: I guess you could call this a sequel. Still haven't quite figured out where it's gonna go. LxJ Rating may go up
1. Fantasy

I don't know about everyone else who writes Red eye Fan fics, But I am quite possibly the hugest Cillian Murphy fan you will ever meet. I'm not that chick who taped a picture of his face to a dog kennel and pretended to feed him dog biscuits (you can find that on Google videos by typing in "Cillian Murphy". It's quite funny) but I do fantisize about him , and you will only see my fantasies about Red Eye published on-line. With that said, I don't own any of the characters in this story though I wished I owned him! (tee hee)

Darkness enveloped me. I couldn't see anything, though I could hear all sorts of things. Crying, laughter, talking. I didn't know where I was and I didn't really care. I was lost in my own thoughts.

"Jack. . ." It sounded like the voice of a thousand bells ringing softly in my ears. Come to think of it, it sounded quite familiar. . .

"Jack. . ."

There it is again. Such a lovely voice. I wonder who it is?

"Jack, open your eyes. . ."

Oh yes, now I remember.  
WHAM! It hits me with the force of a ton of bricks. I'm there and she's there, too. We just made love on a deserted Tuscan beach. It's our honeymoon and we're nothing but a tangle of salty sweat and bodies. It's a year later. We're sitting on the porch of our new house with a white picket fence and I'm rubbing her very pregnant belly. Another year passes, we both have jobs and struggle to find a babysitter. It's four years later and my son looks up at me with the same startling blue eyes and tells me to kick the ball back. He's in high school now, on the Varsity Soccer team and me and his mother watch hand in hand as he scores the winning goal and his team hoists him onto their shoulders. Now, his mother and I watch from the front center seat as he marries a pretty girl he's in love with and we all love one another. . .

I finally open my eyes and realize what I could have had. She hovers over me, her brown curly hair falling past her face and startling hazel eyes looking into my own. What if things had been different?

She smiles. "I don't know Jack, but it's time for you to wake up now."

Huh?

Suddenly, an explosion of light and pain meet my eyes and body. I'm sitting in a hospital bed, gauze bandages over my throat, chest, and thigh. I try to sit up, but can't. I try to speak, but I can't. I push the nurse assistance button. Ahh, something I can do. A woman of maybe mid forties walks into the room a minute later, carrying a lidded Styrofoam cup containing ice water. I realize then how thirsty I am.

"Good evening Mister Rippner. I trust you slept well. You've been out for the past three days now,"

I try to speak, but my words come out in a low gurglish croak. Instead, I point to the water. She hands it to me and I gulp it down greedily. She sits down in the chair opposite from my bed. A few minutes pass in silence

"I thought I'd let you know what condition you're in. Nod if you'd like to know,"

I nod, my thirst properly quenched.

"Well, you know your injuries, I assume,"

I nod again.

"The doctors performed surgery to remove the bullets, but one of them hit your lung and there were hours spent repairing the tissue damage. Surgery was a success. Then they went down your throat and had to internally stitch up the damaged tissue of your windpipe. The stab on your thigh will heal with time. They didn't have to do surgery on that,"

She reaches toward my bedside table and picks up a yellow notepad and pen. I noticed a vase of flowers sitting there as well. Who the fuck could have sent those? The nurse notices my look of confusion towards the flowers.

"Your attempted murderer sent those, believe it or not." As if on cue she hands me the notepad seeing the look of shock written all over my face. I quickly scribble out WHY!

She chuckles. "She forgives you I guess. You know, I've seen relationships take a turn for the worst, but I've never seen it get this bad,"

What the fuck is this woman talking about?

Then it dawned on me. To save my skin, she told a lie. Hm, fancy that. Little conservative Lisa Reisert told a lie.

"Anywho, you'll probably be able to talk tomorrow, after you have some more sleep. Until then, My name's Barbara, and I'll be on shift till two. Just press that little button if you need anything else. Goodnight Mister Rippner, or, can I call you Jack?"

Ahhhhhhhh. That's finally finished! I like it a lot. I hope you people like it. If you do, review. I'll still continue with it even if I don't get any. I take flames, though I don't worship them. Until next time!


	2. What am I thinking?

Hello, thank you for the reviews, they are much appreciated!

XxX

Have you ever been given a choice that no matter which decision you made, it would be the wrong one? Have you ever had the life of more than one person depending on that one choice you made? Come on, get real. No one ever gets put in a predicament like that.

Yeah, well, it happened to me.

My name is Lisa Reisert and, believe it or not, the person that confronted me with that choice is now in the hospital.

Jack Rippner, the man with the stunning blue eyes that made my life a living hell. The man who I am also sending flowers to.

Yes, that's correct. I'm sending flowers to a homicidal maniac. But, hopefully once I'm done buttering him up, we'll come to an agreement and I'll never see him again. Sounds easy, right?

Well it's not so simple, unfortunately. The police had a lot of questions when they arrived to find poor Jack shot twice and a hole in his throat. I had to tell them something but I couldn't bring myself to tell them the truth. Why? I'm still not sure why I didn't have them take him to the nearest penitentary for all that he put me through, but I guess it was the fact that I think there's more to Jackson Rippner than a homicidal maniac. So, I told the police that he was my boyfriend who got mad when I tried to break it off with him. I stabbed him, shot him, and pierced his thigh with a shoe heel in "Self Defence." The police say that he could press charges against me when he wakes up since his injuries are worse than mine.

This is where the black mail comes in.

I wouldn't normally, infact, I would never use black mail, but, Jack Rippner changed me. For good or bad I'm not sure. Either way, I know now that I'm capable of commiting murder. So, I plan on blackmailing Jack by threatning to tell the police about the Red Eye fiasco, and how he's involved in the Keefe's attempted assasination. I'm blackmailing him so he won't press charges on me, therefore I will not press charges on him. We'll both be free, but on one condition. He must quit his life of crime and forever leave me and my family alone.

I know the chances of this actually happening are very slim.

I know he probably wants to kill me for beating him up.

But I kind of feel sorry for the guy. When my dad shot him the second time, and he looked up at me with those indescribable blue eyes he looked almost. . .sad. I thought it impossible for Jack to feel anything other than empty emotions, but it made me think that there was more to Jackson Rippner than just his job.

So now, here I am, outside the University of Miami hospital, about to just walk in like I own the place, take the elevator to level four, then waltz right into room 416 where Jackson Rippner currently resides.

XxX

Sorry this chapter was so short but, I wanted the hospital meeting to be from Jacks POV, which is a chapter currently in progress. Maybe reviews will speed the process along. 


	3. Sorry

To all my reviewers to this story, I thank you whole heartedly, but allow me to cut to the chase. I'm deleting this story and starting over. The story I'm currentley writing will have much longer chapters and will make alot more scence. This was my first Red Eye fiction, but I guess I should consider it practice because I had only seen the movie two or three times. I loved it, (But I only watched it at first because Cillian Murphy was in it) and then jumped right into the deep end of writing a story that I knew I couldn't iron out. So, I watched the movie a few more times and Now I suppose that the next time I jump into the deep end, so to speak, I'll be prepared with goggles and floaties. But to all those who did love the story, I assure you the next one will be better. If you have any concerns, complaints, or advice, please email me or say it in a review. My email is in my Profile.

Vee 


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